


The Dream

by peacehopeandrats



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-05-07 00:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14659746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacehopeandrats/pseuds/peacehopeandrats
Summary: Quick SummaryJust the dream of someone who keeps Aslan in their heart.TimingThere is no timeframe for this little story.





	The Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory "posting fanfiction makes me uncomfortable" remarks  
> All I wanted out of this little snip of something was to convey the love of Aslan that so many have.

Giving little regard for anything around her, a girl came crashing through the wood. She flew through patches of sunlight and shadow to her unknown destination, brushing past limbs and swishing through bunches of deeply green leaves. He was out there, she was certain of it, and whatever it was that pulled her to wherever she was going shouted at her to move faster still.

It was difficult to tell her age, though a guess aimed in the years before her teens would probably be accurate. Her golden hair was extremely long, and it flew in her wake as if the strands had become one long train of silken fabric. But the girl gave little thought to how graceful or clumsy she looked as she went first in one direction, then spun on her heel to continue on another, seemingly random path, all she knew was the invisible pull to Him and the joy that would fill her on His return.

Flashes of color filled her vision as she tore through the greens and browns of the forest, feeling the soft, rich earth under the soles of her shoes and smelling the freshness of the world drenched with a recent rain. The strobe sensation of sun and shade ceased with stunning abruptness as the trees gave way to the vision she was so eagerly seeking. In a small clearing, was the gentle gaze she had been racing to find, but in the blink of an eye, the image was gone, as if it had been made of only the leaves and branches around her.

Undeterred by the change in her vision, she returned to her fast-paced charge under the trees. The warm and loving soul she sought was there still, the face in the trees was only the sign that she was following the path that He intended for her. Twice more she found the softness of his gaze. And twice more she realized it was made by the brown shades of the world around her.

After an immeasurable time had passed, the trees began to thin and gradually, like the blending colors of a rainbow, gave way entirely to a seemingly endless field, stretching as far as her eyes could see. The tall grass swayed like the waves of an ocean and one could easily imagine that all of her running had brought her to His country.

It was here that she found him, not as a mirage or a guidepost, but the real and true lion, stretched out in the sun, tail twitching lazily, deep eyes smiling at her arrival.

Crossing the distance between them, the girl flung her arms wide as she rushed to wrap herself around his thick neck and bury herself in his soft mane. The sound of his rumbling chuckle filled the air and rattled her heaving chest, then grew still and the whole world seemed to grow silent without it.

When she finally pulled away, the first words out of her mouth weren't of greeting or relief over seeing him, but were spoken with the frown of concern.

“Why the horses?”

A gentle breath released from him as he moved to sit, regarding her from a more serious position, as this was a most serious topic. “It was the time for change. It was their time. It is the price everyone pays for freedom in any land.”

“But how many of them really knew what they were giving their lives for?”

“Sacrifices come at a price. That is why they are called sacrifices.”

She sighed, accepting that no question would change what had happened and that no words would bring back the innocents that were lost. “The good of the many,” she recited to herself, only to be given a silent nod in answer.

“How old are you now, wherever you are in your own time?” asked the girl.

The deep, rumbling chuckle came again. “Why does it matter?”

“Because time seems funny now,” she answered, glancing down at the young, lightly tanned skin of her hands as if they held the answers to all of time and space. “I feel as if years have changed us, but I don't know why.”

“Most who come to this place age on while they are here,” explained her friend. “Some live entire lifetimes before returning to their own land. Those ways, for you, work backward. While others come here to grow, you come to remain as you were.”

The words rolled around in her mind as she tried to make sense of them, but she could find no answer or question that could ever follow what she had heard, in the end, she remained silent and still, soaking up the warmth of the light and the cool of the breeze and the essence of simply being here, with Him by her side.

The stillness remained between them for a while, one as comfortable and natural as being snuggled down in a favorite blanket on a cold, snowy day. As the sun shone on their friendship, the girl grew weary and rested her head on the soft, golden shoulder, its rise gentle rise and fall settling her into a deep and peaceful slumber.

When next she opened her eyes, the main menu of a Prince Caspian DVD was playing on the television. Realizing she had drifted off, an old woman lifted her head from the arm of her sofa and reached to take the remote in her hand. Her wrinkled, aged joints creaked as her body stretched and her fingers held the tremor of age as they pressed the button that would bring silence to her small room.

Realizing she had fallen asleep, either here or in some other world, or maybe even in both places, the woman who had once been a girl smiled.

“I have missed you,” she said to no one in particular, for the room was empty of any other physical being. As if in answer, the rumble of a truck could be heard outside, beyond her walls, making its way to somewhere else in this world that had forgotten all of what could be and replaced that knowledge with what they believed simply was. But the woman knew better, and she added a laugh of her own to what no one else heard; the chuckle of a lion who went by many names in many worlds, one that she had always called friend.


End file.
